


Pet

by jenna_thorn



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna_thorn/pseuds/jenna_thorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were elves, once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pet

_"I simply cannot abide these twisted creatures."  
"The two legged or the four?"  
"Both, I suppose. Though the animals are somehow less unclean. The riders seem as though they should be intelligent."  
"As opposed to what they actually are," he grunted, as close to laughter as the grim field would allow.  
_

The warg temperament was such that the riders joined the pack, rather than training the warg to the fire. So they shared a straw bed in a long abandoned stable, smearing scent markers over carved horses and making the space their own, making one another their own. He slept pillowed on a muscled haunch and in turn was blanketed by hairy warmth under ever-alert twitching ears. In time coarse hair became as familiar as his own scabby skin and the smell of straw wet with urine signaled home and they shared meat, red blood running freely down their chins, one less bristled than the other.

 _"Phaugh. Even the blood is rank and black with evil."_

How far could he have been thrown? He could hear a whimper, fluttering and high, an echo of his own involuntary cries as he crawled forward, dragging his mangled legs. The warg's front paw twitched in repetitive rhythm and its head lay at an unnatural angle. He cooed as he approached, but the warg snapped at him before snuffling then whining, still unmoving. He curled round the spotty snout and the warg's eyes slowed their frantic rolling. It panted, its gray-black tongue lolling out and its paw twitched once more, then stilled. Its flank seemed to sink in on itself, no longer fighting against the sky, dropping to show sharp ribs and the edge of the spear. He lay uncaring, burning under the searing blue, as his own life leaked from his gut and groin to pool under them both.

 _"Should we burn them? I fear contagion from the filth."  
"The smell would be ghastly."  
"Can they smell any worse than they do?"  
Again the bark of humorless laughter sounded. "No, we have no time. We must ride to Helm's Deep."_


End file.
